coming down ▶ drarry (UNDER MAJOR REVISION)

empty corridors and cunningness

"You should have died, Malfoy."

"God, you're so pathetic." A loud crack and an agonized gasp echoed across the empty corridor.

He was walking back to his next class when Draco was ambushed by a couple of angry students, all whom he had no names to match their faces. It was an unfair fight, they were all burly and he was alone against four. He did not fought back either, afraid that it might be another offense that the ministry would gladly add to his sentence.

Because whether he likes it or not, the wizarding world isn't fond of him at the moment and truly- no one would help him anymore if he was subjected to another trial due to school bullying⁠— even though he was the victim.

Seething on the cold cobble floor, Draco willed himself not to release any kind of tears or show another hint of emotion. A Malfoy does not cry or show any signs of weaknesses. That was one of the things he was taught, and one of the things he was used to do. At least during his agonizing moments, Draco swore to keep himself from tainting his remaining dignity even further.

"He looks like he's become a stone!" One of them sneered while nudging his feet with their boot before issuing another kick to his leg. "Are you going to run and tell us off to your, Daddy- Hm, Malfoy?—"

They all laughed before the guy squatted to take a grip on Draco's hair and made him look at him as he continued, "Oh right, you can't! Your father's locked up in Azkaban!"

Unfortunate for the brute, it had given Draco the time to memorize his and his friends' faces. The guy scrunched his face in disgust and then dropped Draco's head back to the floor with a THUD. "Ugh- He looks ridiculous. I can't believe he even had the nerve to come back."

"I think he's had enough for today. Let's go." One of them said.

Draco listened as they departed, sighing in frustration as the sound of their footsteps faded.

Wandering alone was then on a decision that he added to his list of things that he regret of doing. Of course, with a school filled with grieving souls who fought in the war, he should have anticipated being treated foully.

He was a death-eater. And that was that.

A decision, or more like a deed, that was crowned on the top of the list of things that Draco regret of doing.

Well, except for its consequences. At least his mother lived and was safe in the manor.

He clutched his bruised torso, judging from the tearing ache on his chest and back; He was sporting a broken rib, maybe two or three.

It was nothing unusual, after all, he's had worse. Slowly sitting up with his back against the cold wall, He glared ahead to the empty corridors then flicked his sight on his aching leg and ankle. It was starting to give a numbing pain. One of the idiots had the fun of hexing him then tripping him before they thoughtfully took his wand away to render him useless; apparently he knows that seeing someone tripping or struggle with magic is hilarious. He would know - been there, done that. But to his embarrassment, it never occurred to him that there would come a day that he would actually experience it himself.

Draco sighed once more. His face scrunched up in stress as he tried to figure out ways to make it to the Hospital Wing without humiliating himself because he was actually considering crawling his way there.

"This is stupid." He muttered in irritation while using the wall as leverage, managing to keep himself upright before slowly trudging towards the corner where his wand was thrown, which was a couple of yards away from where he stood.